How i Died S1 E02: Freudian Slip

Transcript: How i Died S1 E02: Freudian Slip

This transcript is adapted from the episode’s original script, so the final audio may differ slightly.

[Elevator sounds and ruffling around with a microphone]

Hank: I don’t know. I don’t know how it happened.

Jon: Wait; wait! Hold on. Let me get the recorder working before you start talking again.

Sheriff: I’ve learned he’s very particular about recording every detail…

Jon: I need to get everything for my reports, especially if we’re going to be out in the field.

Sheriff: Inn the field, he says. Ha! Aren’t you glad to just be out of that dark basement?

Jon: Can we start over?

Sheriff: Sure.

Jon: It is Tuesday, 11:43 am. This is doctor Jon Spacer, Sheriff Fran Crowley… Aaaand…

Hank: My name is Hank Greene.

Jon: And you’re the foreman?

Hank: No sir. I was just up here when it happened.

Jon: Got it. Now, sheriff, where are we exactly?

Sheriff: This is, um, a new build site for, uh, Crowley Construction. And before you ask, it’s owned by my ex husband.

Jon: I didn’t say anything.

Sheriff: Yeah, but you were gonna. I can tell.

Jon: Why do-

Sheriff: We’re almost to the top.

[Elevator dings]

Sheriff: Right on cue.

Hank: If you don’t mind… I’d rather not look.

Sheriff: Just hang out up here for me, Hank. We’re gonna need some official statements.

Jon: Lead on, sheriff.

Sheriff: Over here. Watch your step. We don’t need anyone becoming a kebab.

Jon: What?

Sheriff: Come here. No, closer to the edge. Just hold on and look over.

[Wind and metal moving]

Jon: Shit…

Sheriff: Yeeeeaaahh…

Jon: He’s… He’s been skewered by that metal rod.

Sheriff: Hence the kebab.

Jon: Why are there still crew working around here? This is a crime scene!

Sheriff: Like I said, this stuff doesn’t phase people around here much.

Jon: That’s insane. Someone is dead.

Sheriff: (nonchalant) Everybody dies.

Jon: Shouldn’t you… Be more concerned about your townspeople’s safety?

Sheriff: Springfield is cursed. People die. You either get used to it or you leave.

Jon: Hank seems prettt upset about it. At least he’s showing normal emotion.

Sheriff: You know what normal emotion looks like?

Jon: Maybe not normal for *here*.

Sheriff: (stern) Look – we’ve had six coroners in the past year alone. This place isn’t for everybody. So before you come in here thinking you’re all high and mighty knowing what’s right, why don’t you just do your job?

Jon: Got it.

Sheriff: (happier again) And besides, it’s not like he was murdered. The poor guy just fell.

Jon: How do you know that?

Sheriff: Just some prelim interviews about what happened.

Jon: Then why do you need me here?

Sheriff: Because. This is mostly an insurance claim matter. I need you to sign off on what happened.

Jon: Me? Why?

Sheriff: I need an impartial third party. You know, the whole ex husband thing. The insurance claims are going to want someone other than me to sign off on this. So I need to know if there were any drugs in his system. Or if it was faulty equipment; malpractice, you get the idea.

Hank: (in distance) He didn’t do any drugs.

Jon: Why me? Couldn’t you just tell me to lie on the form?

Sheriff: Are you kidding? It’s barely been a week and I can already tell you’d never do it if I told you to.

Jon: Gee… Thanks.

Sheriff: Anyways, The second problem is: he’s kind of stuck to that pole.

Jon: Jesus.

Sheriff: So I need you to get any samples and shit you might need now, and let my guys know how best to get him off that pole. The family is still gonna want a funeral.

Jon: I’m supposed to be determining cause of death, not acting as clean up crew.

Sheriff: Oh, doc. You’re the only "expert" in this county, so you’re the coroner, the mortician and the damn cleanup brigade if I need you to be. Got it?

Jon: …sure. What can you tell me about the victim?

Sheriff: He was Clifford Wallace; 29.

Hank: Everybody just called him Wallace.

Jon: And how do I get down there to examine him?

Hank: (further away) We’ve got… A pully system with harnesses. Everyone’s supposed to wear them up this high. Wallace was wearing one too.

Jon: Wait, you want me to wear one of the same potentially faulty harnesses that led to *that*?

Hank: This kind of stuff doesn’t usually happen on the job. Me and Wallace have been doing construction with Langton since high school, and this is the first accident we’ve ever had…

Jon: I bet. Is this seriously the only way?

Sheriff: You’re a fit looking kid, I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Jon: Hold this please. I’ll try to get this thing on…

Sheriff: Hank. While he’s doing that, I’ve got a couple of questions for you. Where exactly did Wallace fall from?

Hank: Right… Over there. To the left.

Sheriff: And where were you?

Hank: Just about here. I can’t really remember. It all happened to fast.

Sheriff: Can you walk me through it?

Hank: Again?

Sheriff: Please.

Hank: Wallace and I were working here all morning. Stopped to have lunch and then we picked back up. We were talking – he said something and I wasn’t looking. Next thing I know… (Starts to get teary) he just fell. I turned around and he was gone. I heard a yell and a slam next. It was so loud. I looked down and there he was. It’s still ringing in my ears.

[Mic muffle]

Jon: (closer) Do you need me for this part? Otherwise, I’m headed down.

Sheriff: Mm. Spacer, try not to die. Please. A dead coroner is the last thing I need right now.

Jon: I think you’re getting some sort of sick pleasure out of this, huh?

Sheriff: Little bit.

Jon: Fine. Just know that when I fall and die, my conclusion is faulty equipment.

Sheriff: (fading) Sorry about him.

Hank: (fading) It’s fine…

Jon: Couple more feet… And… There. Phew. This isn’t terrifying at all. Now how in the hell do I get over to those beams…

Wallace: Oh great. Another one.

Jon: (yelling) Hey buddy! Is all of this actually safe to walk on?

Sheriff: (yelling) You say somethin, doc?

Jon: (yelling) Not you.

Jon: (normal) Guess I just walk and hope this harness catches me if the floorboard gives out.

Wallace: Haha. It shouldn’t. I put those there myself.

Jon: And you are?

Wallace: Wait. Are you talking to me?

Jon: Yeah… Of course I am. Who else would I be talking to down here?

Wallace: How can you see me?

Jon: Ah damnit. You’re him, huh? The guy on the beam?

Wallace: Looks like it.

Jon: Wallace. Right?

Wallace: Yep.

Jon: Great… Wallace, please don’t make me explain how this all works. I’m really uncomfortable being up this high. I’m just here to figure out how you… Well… You’re dead. Oh. My name is Jon by the way. Er… Doctor Spacer.

Wallace: Didn’t they tell you what happened? I fell.

Jon: Yeah, I can see that. But *why* you fell is what I need to figure out.

Wallace: What do you mean, ’why’? I just fell.

Jon: I’m going to draw some blood. Just to be sure.

Wallace: Sure of what?

Jon: If you’ve done any drugs, or if you came to work intoxicated.

Wallace: I didn’t; I don’t.

Jon: No offense, but I don’t have a great track record with believing everything the dead tell me. So either we can just pretend that we can’t see each other, how about that?

Wallace: Have you ever been in love?

Jon: Please stop talking. I’m trying to work.

Wallace: I’m dead. Humor me as the last person I’m ever going to talk to.

Jon: I don’t feel comfortable telling you anything about myself.

Wallace: Have you been?

Jon: Fine – if it’ll get you to stop talking. Yes, I have been.

Wallace: What happened?

Jon: That’s none of your business? And what does that have to do with anything?

Wallace: I’ll tell you exactly what happened if you just talk to me.

Jon: Don’t try to play that card. I don’t need you. I can figure out everything I need to know just by examining your body.

Wallace: You’ll find out what you find out then, won’t you? With or without me?

Jon: I will. The body of the victim always tells the full story, one way or another. The details will be on your clothes, in your blood, on your wounds. They’ll tell me why you fell, and you can move on knowing that the truth has been found.

Wallace: I doubt it.

Jon: And *THERE*. I’ve got enough blood to run a tox screen back at my lab.

Wallace: Why are you doing this?

Jon: Doing my job? Or ignoring you?

Wallace: You’re so closed off that you can’t even tell a dead guy – literally someone who will never be able to tell someone else – what happened with your ex?

Jon: He died. Okay?

Wallace: Oh… I’m so sorry.

Jon: Don’t be. It was worse for him than it was for me.

Wallace: How did he die?

Jon: Stop. Just stop. Leave me alone for a few minutes. I need to check your harness for defects.

Wallace: It wasn’t the harness.

Jon: Again – the whole being lied to thing.

Wallace: I had just climbed back up and unhooked. I wasn’t planning on coming back down here now.

Jon: There doesn’t seem to be a broken clamp or anything. You really weren’t hooked up. Damnit! …I can’t get anything from your body like this.

Wallace: I slipped.

Jon: Not that I’m engaging with you, but, you’re telling me that you were standing close enough to the edge, unhooked, to just slip off?

Wallace: Yes.

Jon: I don’t buy it. With how long you both have been doing this, you knew better. No. Note for the record: the victim’s shirt is ripped. And fingernails look dirty.

Wallace: Of course they’re dirty. I’m a construction worker.

Jon: I’m collecting samples of residue underneath the deceased’s fingernails. I’m anticipating finding skin cells.

Wallace: I swear; I slipped. It was just an accident.

Jon: I’ve had enough lies. Just… Go away. Move on and let me do my job.

Wallace: Fine. But promise me something.

Jon: And there it is. The reason you’ve been trying to connect with me. You all seem to want something, so what is it? What?

Wallace: Promise me you’ll say it was an accident.

Jon: So it wasn’t an accident then?

Wallace: No. Not, it was. Just… When I tell you, please don’t say anything.

Jon: I can’t promise that. But… At this point, it’s either you tell me what you know, or neither of us gets what we want.

Wallace: Hank and I were arguing.

Jon: I knew it. He pushed you off.

Wallace: No! He didnt. It was an accident, like I’ve been saying. I don’t want him to get punished for an accident. It would ruin his life.

Jon: Well his accident ended yours.

Wallace: I’m okay with that.

Jon: I’m sure your parents and your friends won’t be.

Wallace: Why should they get a say just because they’re upset?

Jon: Because that’s how people grieve. They need something to make it right. Someone to blame.

Wallace: Is that what you did when your wife died?

Jon: I wasn’t married.

Wallace: But you did blame someone, right?

Jon: Clever. Yes, I blamed someone, and no.

Wallace: Exactly. It’s not going to help my mom feel any better. It would probably make her feel worse. Hank and I have been friends all our lives. If he’s suddenly shunned from the family, too, it’ll be like they lost two kids instead of one.

Jon: So you think he should just get away with murder because you want him to? That’s not how this works.

Wallace: I keep telling you. It wasn’t murder. It was an accident.

Jon: Until you give me actual details, I’m not goint to just believe you on your word. Hell, I still might not.

Wallace: I said something that pissed him off. Something I knew would piss him off. He’s a hothead. He didn’t think and he pushed me away from him. I stumbled back and was too close to the edge to stop myself.

Jon: I have to file this. I can’t ignore it.

Wallace: He didn’t do it on purpose. There wasn’t anything malicious in his heart. He doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body.

Jon: And yet, you’re still dead because of it.

Sheriff: (yelling) Who are you talking to?

Jon: (yelling) Oh, umm… Just noting details for my report.

Sheriff: (yelling) You almost done?

Jon: I’m heading back up in a second.

Wallace: Please. At least talk to Hank before you say something. You’ll see.

Jon: So not only…am I out here climbing… But now I’m being asked to lie… For a dead person…

[Rope whirring and being pulled back up]

Sheriff: (getting closer) Welcome back. What’s the verdict?

Jon: As much as I’d like to say otherwise, it’s Inconclusive so far. Although it definitely wasn’t an equipment error. The Victim didn’t have-

Sheriff: Wallace.

Jon: What?

Sheriff: You called him "victim." His name was Wallace.

Jon: Ooookay. Wallace didn’t have a ripped clamp on his vest. Looks like he wasn’t attached when he fell.

Sheriff: Damn. Guess my ex isn’t getting a payout on this one! Ha.

Jon: Seriously?

Sheriff: Any idea how to get him off the pole?

Jon: You have to cut it below the bottom of his head and move him with the pole sticking out. I can pull it out back at the lab.

Sheriff: That’s what I figured. All right.

Jon: Are we done? Can we leave?

Sheriff: A little sunshine is good for ya!

Jon: Har har. It’s not that…

Sheriff: I’m going to take some photos. Head on back down with Hank. Oh, and, uh… I feel like I was a little harsh earlier. So, thanks for your help.

Jon: Sure. Of course.

[Elevator door open]

Jon: Hank?

Hank: Yessir?

[Elevator down]

Jon: Sorry about your friend. Seems like you two were close.

Hank: Thanks. We were.

Jon: And that’s why, I have to ask: Wallace’s shirt was ripped, and he had skin tracing under his fingernails. You tried to catch him when he fell, didn’t you?

Hank: (holding back tears) No. I was on the other side of the landing, like I said.

Jon: Mmm.

[Elevator opening, guys stepping out. The doors close and it]

[Starts to go back up.]

Jon: I know you two got into a fight. dIf I find your DNA under his fingertips and you maintain your innocence, that’s damning in court.

Hank: In court?

Jon: Yeah, court. You could be facing years for murder. Unless it’s something else…

Hark: It was… I tried to catch him. I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry.

Jon: What happened exactly?

Hark: He was just talking. He wouldn’t stop. I just go so mad and…

Jon: You pushed your friend off of the top of a building.

Hank: I just tried to get him to back up. I pushed him too hard and he slipped backward. I tried to catch him but I couldn’t… I killed him. He’s dead because of me.

Jon: What would make you so mad that you forgot you needed to be safe up there?

Hank: He wouldn’t stop talking… And the things he was saying…

Jon: What was he saying? Spit it out. (Quietly) God, you’re as bad as him…

Hank: He told me that he loved me. That he always loved me. I’m not gay. He’s not… Or he wasn’t… I don’t know. He just kept saying how we were meant to be together. And how I knew I felt something more.

Jon: Did you…?

Hank: No. I’m not… I don’t know. My dad would kill me. I’d have been the laughing stock of the whole yard. I – I pushed him away… He’s dead because I was disgusted. Or scared… Or. Something.

Jon: You idiot. Your friend is dead because you couldn’t admit you loved him back, and-

Hank: He’s gone now…

[Elevator down and open sound.]

Jon: Yeah. He is. And that’s going to stick with you for the rest of your life, trust me.

Sheriff: (further away) Alright. I think I got everything I need. Doc, my boys will have the body to you in a jiff. Whoa. Tense mood. What are you two talkin about?

Hank: Sheriff Crowley… I –

Jon: Just getting to know more about Wallace. I doubt I’ll find anything in my blood test. As far as I can tell, it just looks like an accident. Maybe chalk this one up to another unexplained strange death, eh

Hank: But…

Jon: It’s no ones fault, so don’t try to blame yourself, Hank. Wallace wouldn’t want that, I bet.

Hank: No… He wouldn’t.

Sheriff: Shame. I know I make jokes about this shit, but it shouldn’t have been him. Not this young.

Wallace: Thank you.

Jon: Ending recording.